A Mid-Summer's Day
by fueledbyglitter
Summary: An outrageously hot day and a nine months pregnant, six days overdue Lily Potter are not the best combination. One-shot for Jily October. Rated M for language.


Lily Potter was not, in general terms, a fan of hot days.

Much less so when she was nine months pregnant and almost a week overdue.

And July 31st, 1980 was one of those horrid, dreadful mid-summer days when the air is thick and everything seems to be moving at a slower pace from sheer heat. It was around noon, and Lily was lying on the floor of their living room, in their cottage at Godric's Hollow, simply because the floor was the only thing in the entire house that wasn't lukewarm. Her other option had been a nice cold shower, but James (the blasted git) was using it and she wasn't in the mood for sharing. She simply glared at the ceiling. Until a hearty kick to one of her organs made her inhale sharply, prop herself up on her elbows and transfer the glare to her stomach. She and James were convinced the baby was a girl, though they had yet to pick out a name.

"Bloody hell," she glowered at it. "Do you mind? I'm trying not to die here."

And there, in the middle of the hardwood floor, wearing an oversized Beatles t-shirt —and not much else—was where James found her a few minutes later.

"What are you doing down there?" he asked, ruffling his damp hair and grinning.

"Enjoying the fact that I can't see my feet because of _your _child," she grumbled. "Curse you and your potent sperm, Potter."

"My child? When did she become _my _child? You aren't exactly innocent in this, _Evans_," he smirked, that irritating smirk, and sat on the arm rest of the couch, looking down at her.

"She became your child when she decided not to come out the day she was due and relieve me of my pain. And that's Potter to you, Potter."

James chuckled. Oh, the nerve. "You're my wife, Evans, I can call you whatever I fancy."

"I'll make myself a widow if you don't behave," was her response. James laughed.

"I got an owl from Frank a while ago," he said. Lily raised an eyebrow.

"Alice had the baby yesterday."

"Lucky her," Lily deadpanned. "Boy or girl?"

"It was a boy, they named him Neville."

"We should probably visit later."

"I take it you're not going to stay down there all day, then?"

"I won't lie to you, the idea is tempting," Lily replied. "But the floor is starting to feed off the heat of my suffering body. Help me up so I can shower, will you?"

"Of course, love."

Damn James and his endearing pet names. Damn James and damn his irresistible smirk. Damn that 95% success rate of that damn contraceptive potion. And damn those bloody cooling charms that only seemed to work for five damn minutes before the damn unbearable heat set in again.

James took her hands and gingerly helped Lily to sit up first. Then, with much effort on both their parts, Lily was able to get up.

"Oh, bloody hell," she said, cradling her stomach. James reached for her protectively but she waved him off. "I'm fine, dear… But she'll be set for Quidditch, I'll tell you that much. _Way_ too much energy."

James laughed and Lily waddled away in the way that only penguins and very pregnant women seem to know how to do. "I'll make you something cold to eat for when you get out of the shower, how does that sound?"

"An ice-cream sundae wouldn't be too bad, Potter."

"Coming right up, darling."

"It's a good thing you're cute or I might have murdered you by now," Lily said, waddling away and up the stairs, hands on her hips.

James chuckled to himself and pulled out the ice-cream from the fridge, along with the chocolate fudge and whipped cream. He was just going through the cabinets in search of chocolate sprinkles when—

"_JAMES_!"

"Lily?" James rushed to the stairs, taking them two at a time. He found Lily just inside their bedroom, gripping the bedpost for support and staring at a puddle of water at her feet.

"What—what's wrong?" he gaped from Lily to the puddle and back to her.

"I think my water broke."

"_What?_"

"Water—baby—coming—_now_!"

James stared at her for a moment before her words truly sank in and he entered the frenzied state of general panic consistent with a first-time-dad-to-be. And boy, did he panic.

"Holy shit!" he exclaimed, running a hand through his hair and running frantically around the room. "Hospital—baby's coming—floo powder—Mungo's—yes—need to go—"

"James!" Lily's voice snapped him out of it. "I'll get dressed; I can't leave the house in a t-shirt and wet knickers. Go, floo Padfoot and tell him to meet us at Saint Mungo's and have him let Remus and the others know."

"Right, Padfoot—what about—suitcase?"

"I'm packed, I was due six days ago, remember?"

"Right, right."

"James."

"Yeah?"

"Go, before this baby decides she wants to be born right here."

And he did. Bounding downstairs, he grabbed some floo powder from the bowl on the mantle and threw it into the flames, calling out Sirius' direction. After a moment, his best friend's head appeared in the flames.

"James, mate, what's wrong? You look pale as a ghost."

"Lily's going into labor," James said, please when the smirk was wiped right off Sirius' face. "We'll meet you at St. Mungo's, let Moony, Wormtail and the others know."

"All right," Sirius said. "See you soon, take care of my godkid."

"Will do."

* * *

An hour later, James was pacing in front of the double doors leading to the delivery room, through which Lily had been wheeled away by a couple of nurses about fifteen minutes prior, swearing profusely as the contractions kicked in. Sirius, Remus and Marlene McKinnon sat in the few chairs across the hall from the doors.

"James, if you wear a hole in the floor, they'll sue," Remus said, much to Marlene's and Sirius' amusement.

"Why won't they let me in?" James asked for the millionth time.

"Just wait," Marlene said. "Patience is a virtue."

"A virtue he wasn't born with," Sirius grinned. "They'll let you in as soon as they finish getting her ready, mate."

"Bloody hell, it's not like I haven't—"

"Mr. Potter?"

James turned to where one of the nurses, a tiny blonde thing with a round face and a pink complexion, was leaning out of the doors into the delivery room.

"You can come in now."

James turned to his friends. "I'll see you guys in a while."

"See you later, señor Dad-to-almost-be," Sirius winked and the other two waved.

He walked inside to where Lily was on a contraption resembling a hospital bed, but that had some things at the end for her to place her feet. She was wearing one of those robes that tie at the back and more often than not fail to conceal the patient's bottom. Healer Holland, a witch of forty-something and donned in complete medical gear, was sitting on a stool looking into the space between Lily's legs, partially concealed by a blue, blanket type thing. The room was white and brightly lit.

James practically ran over to his wife, who looked at him with relief, as if he was the best thing that had happened to her all day. "Hello, dear," she said, her face sweaty and pink.

"Hi, love. Marlene, Sirius and Remus are out there." She nodded.

"All right, Lily, you're at ten centimeters, time to push!" the Healer declared.

Just then, Lily was hit with a contraction. She pushed, gripping James' hand hard enough to numb his fingers and swearing like a sailor.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fucking hell! Oh, James, I am going to _kill you _once I'm done here!"

And so it began. And for the next eight hours, they entered a constant cycle of Lily pushing and spewing a mixture of curse words and insults towards James, while he held her hand, the other arm draped over her shoulder. He rested his forehead against her temple when it was time to push, taking her verbal abuse and whispering a combination of _I know_, _I'm sorry_ and _I love you_. Lily's face was a shade of red that rivaled that of her own hair.

"Bugger all, I hate you!"

"If you think we're having another kid after this you are dead wrong!"

"Fucking hell, James, why did you have to get me pregnant?"

"I am going to sue the wands off the people who made that potion!"

"There is no way in hell I'm letting this child forget the pain she put me through!"

"Oh, this _has _to be a Slytherin kid."

"Fuck, fuckity, fucking _ow_!"

"How fat is this baby, anyway?!"

"Here's the head, Lily!" Healer Holland said after what seemed like an eternity. "Push!"

And she did but not before asking, "Is it ginger?"

The Healer just laughed and shook her head and a moment later, a lot of things happened at once: Lily gripped James' hand even harder than she had up until now, almost cracking his fingers, letting out a strangled scream and the same time he grinned and screamed right on with her. A nurse rushed over to help Healer Holland and after a few seconds, a piercing cry filled the air and Lily fell back against the pillow, exhausted and breathing heavily.

"You did it," James whispered as the nurses rushed and fussed over the screaming baby. "You did it, Lils." She smiled, still trying to catch her breath.

"It's a boy!" Healer Holland declared.

"What?" they both asked immediately, Lily's head jerking up to see for herself. The healer walked over, the baby wrapped in a light blue blanket. They held him together, shock and elation on both their faces. He wasn't crying anymore. He was actually very alert. A shock of jet black hair crowned his head, messy as, well, James'; and his eyes, studying everything intently were a startling, unmistakable shade of emerald green.

"Bloody hell," James gaped, completely humbled by the sight of his baby boy.

"Really, James?" Lily smiled up at him. "_That_'s the first thing you're going to say to our son?"

James laughed. "He's so small."

"He's got your hair, poor lad," Lily chuckled.

"Yeah, but he got your eyes, so I think that balances out, no?"

"He's ours," Lily said softly, as if the reality of it all had finally struck her. "We're parents."

"I love you," James said, planting a kiss on top of her head.

* * *

Another hour later, they were in Lily's hospital room, along with Sirius—who had finally gotten to hold his godson—Remus, Peter and Marlene. Lily and James sat side by side on her hospital bed, the baby asleep in Lily's arms.

"Rather a shock, isn't he?" Marlene said. "Since you were expecting a girl and all."

"I had a feeling it would be a miniature-James," Remus said and they all laughed.

"So what are you going to name him?" Peter asked, fidgeting as always in a chair. "He can't be '_Baby Potter_' forever, can he?"

"Might I suggest Sirius Jr.?" Sirius said, grinning broadly when Lily scowled.

"No," she said. "We already picked out James as a middle name but…"

They began to toss out suggestions of names, each more outrageous than the last.

"No, he doesn't look like a Barnaby."

"Over my dead body will my son be named Heywood."

"Every bloke I've ever mate named Angus has turned out to be a complete prat."

"For the last time, we're not naming him Sirius!"

And just when everyone was debating whether 'Tyler' would be setting the boy up for teasing at school, it popped into James' head.

"Hey," he said. "What about 'Harry'?"

"Harry Potter?" Sirius said.

"Harry Potter," Marlene echoed. "Has a nice ring to it."

"I like it," Remus declared. Peter nodded.

"Harry James Potter," Lily said, looking down at the baby asleep in her arms.

"Sounds delightful," James whispered.

* * *

A/N: Just a little fluffy one-shot I cooked up for Jily October. The next chapter of To Catch A Snitch should be up in a few days!

Reviews are Lily cursing out James in the delivery room.

xo, Sam.


End file.
